Fingertips of Black
by Letoile
Summary: **Continuation of "Until the Ink Runs Out."** "Two years gone and I am back again....."
1. Default Chapter

As a high school student my life is complete with activities. For awhile writing became one of the last of my priorities - well, up until just a few months ago. It had been an extremely long time, since I'd continued writing. It was a welcoming change when my trait of ink stained fingertips returned. 

One day as I was rearranging the furniture in my room, I made many wonderful discoveries of things I had previously done without. Among these things was something especially dear to me - my pen.

I've always thought that pens are very special things. You use them every waking hour, yet people regard them as nothing more than a mere office supply. I'm never far away from any type of writing utensil, whether it is for schoolwork or other purposes. Just think. Wouldn't it be amazing if there was a way to trace the life of a pen - to be able to analyze every word that it has written? So many wonderful things generated from writing: technology (telephones, computers), movies (Gone With the Wind, Titanic, Sound of Music), literature (the Bible), etc. What would we do without the ability to write?

Though a little dusty, my trusty old pen worked perfectly fine once refilled. I tossed the empty cartridge, then sat down on the side of the bed. With a stack of fresh paper on my lap, I began to write.

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"Two years gone, and I am back again."

A/N: Just a note - The examples above of things the world has gotten from writing are ones of my own that have affected my life. Some may not relate to you, but do not take offense. These are my words, remember.


	2. Chapter 1 ~ Anne

A/N: I've been lacking a computer for days, so in the mean time I've been doing research for this chapter. Sorry it's been so long since I've updated.

Shout outs (some from the previous story):

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Vioshine: First off, I don't want you to ever feel guilty for not reviewing. Its okay, girl.. ::smiles:: Thanks so much for reviewing!!! ::smiles:: Ooo.. about the papers in the water.. They eventually pulled them out when they came to their senses.

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Rae Kelly: He he.. thanks so much for everything.. (reviews and all). I'll be reviewing your stories sometime - hopefully as soon as possible. Ooo.. that site with the old timey lyrics is awesome. I found my favorite song of all time on it ("Nearer My God to Thee") and I totally spazzed out. I think I scared my Mom. Ha ha...

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Kora: Yeah, it was sort or a weird ending, huh... Ha ha, but I'm glad that you were not totally surprised by it like everyone else was. As always.. thanks thanks thanks!!! ::swallows a mouth full of sugar:: Sugar is good!

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Elenhiril: Yeah, there was a scandal at the Crescent. Have you stayed there before? It's totally creepy, but defiantly a luxury hotel worth not missing. I haven't eaten at that restaurant before.. I don't think. What does it look like? Thanks for the review!!!

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Night Owl: I hope you understand the story now.. I tried to explain as well as I could. ::smiles:: Thanks for your review!

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Raven: Goodness! You've given me so many reviews (even on my other stories). Thank you, Thank you, Thank you! I hope that I didn't leave you too confused. Feel free to email me at Gozatabby@hotmail.com if you need to. You wrote that you wanna see my art.. Well, you can go to this link and see one of my paintings if you'd like.. http:://www.geocities.com/gozatabby7/About.html

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Mushtmblr: He he.. thanks so much.. I'm so glad that you're looking forward to reading my story.

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On a distant rooftop, she sat up from the slant of the opaque observatory wall. With a relieved sigh, she stood and dusted herself off. Anne slowly walked over to the railing of the building and looked over to the streets below. She was unaware that she was being watched from behind.

The two eavesdroppers neared her hesitantly. The elderly housekeeper and assistant, Ms. Clearwater, clung to Mr. Bordeaux's coat sleeve tightly and bore her tin watering can outward for protection. She eyed the back of the young woman suspiciously; it was great surprise to Anne when she was prodded on the shoulder. She leapt with fright and mingled slightly with the chance of falling to her death. 

"Up you go," the middle-aged man said as he grabbed her before she could slip over the railing. He pulled her to her feet. 

"I'm sorry," Anne replied apologetically as she slowly backed away from the ledge and the two strangers. 

The two continued watching the woman carefully. She was dressed too finely to be of lower class stature. Her dress was a light brown suit with a high necked button up blouse. A small, brown pillbox hat sat atop her coiffure. Her delicate lips quivered slightly from fright and she still had not quit wringing her hands.

The man spoke with a slight European accent. He was dressed in slacks and a nice front-pleated shirt that was halfway tucked in. Dirt was scattered on his hands and clothes and his knees were soiled from leaning down in the wet floors of the greenhouse. 

"Miss, I wish to ask you a few questions and hope that you will answer truthfully," Mr. Bordeaux said, "First of all, what is your name?"

"Anne Montgomery, sir," she replied with a nod.

"And, deary, how old are you?" Ms. Clearwater asked. She smiled cheerfully at the young woman.

"Sixteen," Anne said. Her eyes followed theirs. "I'm sorry for coming up here and for disturbing you."

"It's quite alright," the cherub old woman smiled. "We were just stopping for tea anyways. Would you like to join us?"

"That would be great," Anne replied.

The parlor overlooking Water Street on the Lower East Side had pleasant light blue wallpaper and a small white fireplace on the wall across from the open door. A small, round table stood draped in a flowing white tablecloth and was set for tea in the center of the room. A young woman dressed in a maid's attire stood by the window watching the flocking crowds outside. In her state of daze she continued dusting the same one-foot radius on the wall. 

When Ms. Clearwater and Mr. Bordeaux entered the room they took a seat at the table and motioned towards the girl at the window.

"_Evelyn_," the older woman snapped. The young maid tore away from the window and went to stand by the two adults.

"Evelyn," Ms. Clearwater began more politely than before, "please go fetch another setting for our guest." 

Once the maid left there was a sudden clanging towards the back of the house. Evelyn returned with a cup and saucer that she carefully placed in front of Anne. "Thank you," Anne replied.

Ms. Clearwater's eyes followed the clumsy young woman until she had left the room. "Well, I guess that it would be polite of us to introduce ourselves. "I am Mrs. Clearwater and this is -"

The man cut her off, "Colm Bordeaux, the Biologist."

Her name was Elise Clearwater. She had been happily married in her earlier years, but had recently become a widow. Since her husband's death, Elise came to serve as head housekeeper for the young Mr. Bordeaux. 

Anne grinned. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The conversation continued in the same polite manner. Mr. Bordeaux remained mostly silent; he sat carefully sipping his coffee and listened to Elise and their guest exchange words.

"What do you do as a Biologist, Mr. Bordeaux?" Anne asked pleasurably.

Colm coughed back his coffee in surprise. He set his cup down and straitened up in his seat. "Erm, well, I sometimes teach night classes at the local college.. but I quite prefer to study Botany - photosynthesis, root structures, water movement - things you wouldn't be interested in."

Ms. Clearwater directed him a stern look.

"Oh." Anne's eyebrows narrowed. "but I believe that I would enjoy hearing about it. What kind of plants do you study?"

He continued glowering; he looked between Ms. Clearwater and Anne with surprise, but the young woman left her eyes persistent. He slowly nodded, "W-well, I have many different specimens.. but m-mostly from the Caladenia's species."

Anne smiled to herself. "Ah, orchids."


	3. Chapter 2 ~ A Letter to the Sea

"You see I came up to your roof to look for them. I only hoped that they wouldn't have gone far, but it seems that I was mistaken," Anne explained. Her voice quivered throughout the entire lie-generated story.

"You poor dear," Ms. Clearwater exclaimed, taking Anne's hand. "Oh," she hesitated, "you must stay with us.. at least until we can find your company."

"Stay?" Mr. Bordeaux gasped, his eyes wide. He looked questionably to Elise, and slowly cleared his throat. "Elise, may I please see you in private for a moment?"

Ms. Clearwater released Anne's hand and followed him into the other room. Colm shut the glass drawing room doors behind her, then advanced to speak his mind. "What in the devil's name are you doing? This woman is a stranger -"

Elise cut him off sharply, her eyes like spears. She shook her finger haughtily at him. "- a very nice stranger at that and _I will not take this yelling _at me. _Colm Alexander Bordeaux_, on your mother's deathbed she told me that I was to take you over my knee any time that I deemed it fit and this instance won't be an exception."

"That is preposterous!" Colm yelled.

"Are you saying that I wouldn't?" she growled.

"Just look at this logically. This Anne, uh -" He snapped his fingers impatiently upon searching for the right word.

"Montgomery," Elise supplied.

"Ah, yes, Anne Montgomery.. She is a _stranger_. I do not want a stranger living in my house."

"True," Ms. Clearwater replied, "but she is a respectable young lady. She said that she is from Philadelphia. Have you heard of the Philadelphian Montgomerys?"

"No," he said, quirking an eye.

"Well, I have," she said matter of factly.

"What do they do? Do you know?" Mr. Bordeaux asked.

"A steel company owner I believe, or maybe it was iron. I don't know. I forget."

Colm began to pace the room, his eyes darting to the floor. "Oh." He paused as he lit a cigar. "But you have heard of them?"

"Absolutely," she exclaimed, "I think."

___

Anne was dressed in the white cotton nightgown and cap that had been borrowed from one of the help and she waited patiently as Ms. Clearwater, the girl named Evelyn, and another young woman made up the bed. She sat down at the dresser overlooking the street and admired the nightlife.

"Tomorrow I'll take you out to get some respectable clothes," Ms. Clearwater said.

"What do you mean _respectable_? These are just fine," Anne replied. Her delicate fingers traced over the simply embroidered sleeves of the gown. 

"I'm sure that you are used to much better. Are you rich, Anne?"

"I guess that you could say that I pretty well off," she replied.

"You'll be needing nicer things if you plan on staying here. As Mr. Bordeaux's guest you'll be attending galas and other events," Elise explained.

Anne sighed. "I don't wish to be a bother."

"You won't be, dear. Besides, it would be rude of him to leave you home while he's out."

Anne nodded quietly, then opened the desk drawer. Inside there was a Waterman pen and a few sheets of paper. She pulled them out and placed them underneath the glimmering candlelight. She discarded the top sheet that had already been written on then turned to refill the empty cartridge. Anne lovingly touched the pen to the rough, slightly yellowed paper.

**_Dear Spot, _**she began.

Ms. Clearwater walked over to stand beside the desk. She pulled her wire-rimmed spectacles down from the top of her head. The glasses slipped to the tip of her nose as she leaned down to look. "What's that you're writing?" she asked Anne.

"Oh, its nothing really," Anne replied, moving the letter out of sight. She folded it carefully and placed it inside the desk.

"To bed with you, deary," the sweet old housekeeper smiled. 

Anne slowly climbed into the warm made-down palette. She snuggled deep into the soft pillow, a smile never leaving her face.

"Sleep well," Ms. Clearwater said as she blew out the candle on the bedside table.

Anne caught her sleeve before she could leave. "Elise?"

"Yes, dear," she replied through the darkness.

The younger woman hesitated. "H-have you ever written a letter to the unknown? Have you ever written a letter when you know that there will be no reply?"

In the pitch-black room, Ms. Clearwater sat perplexed. "Well, no."

"Oh," Anne sighed, suddenly feeling foolish.

"But I've heard of such," Elise said. "The saying goes - a word of love, a sentence of hope, and a letter to the sea for new beginning."


	4. Chapter 4 ~ Message In a Bottle

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A/N: I am alive.. ha ha. It's been a while, but this is one of the few chapters that I have ever been satisfied about. I think that its pretty good even though it was written in bits and pieces at a time. Just a suggestion - it makes much more since if you have read the first story before hand. Please tell me what you think and read and review!

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Shout outs:

Thank you Rae Kelly, Kora, and Vioshine for your reviews. How about some birthday cake? ::grins:: It was my birthday on Saturday!

___

By horse drawn carriage, Ms. Clearwater and Anne traveled down to Cannon's Walk near the Seaport. The busy central market was lined with varied shops. In the distance was the East River and the Brooklyn shore. Dozens of carriages whizzed across the largest suspension bridge in the world, the Brooklyn Bridge.

Anne sighed lightly, her eyes not leaving the towering, gothic-arched wonder. She pulled the black shawl tighter around her shoulders, then turned to follow Ms. Clearwater deeper into the crowd.

Around early noon, the two women resided for lunch at a local cafe. Smells of seafood from the nearby Fulton market mingled with the pleasant aromas of brewing coffee. Rallying cries of "nickel shoe shines" and "extra extra" penetrated the small dining hangout.

For the afternoon they went their separate ways: Ms. Clearwater going to do more errands and Anne being free to explore the area. Anne had assured Elise that she had been to the area before and that it would be perfectly fine for her to wander about. As soon as Anne was alone, it was a great relief.

The young lady quietly sniffed back tears as she walked down the ever-familiar Peck Slip. Memories of years passed flushed through her like the incoming salty breeze. Upon coming to the road overlooking the river she met up with the old slightly run-down warehouse that stood as the girl's newsy lodging house. Anne never dreamed that she would be privileged enough to see it's towering brick facade ever again. She wondered if it was possible that some of her dear old friends could be in the second story bunkroom at that moment. Oh how she wished she could see and talk to them again.

Anne glanced upward at the bunkroom window overlooking the river, then turned to the bridge. It really was _their bridge_. She reached out and felt the cool scarlet bricks.

Out on the small, plank-thatched dock Anne sat Indian style as she admired the steady waters. She slowly sipped her sarsaparilla and pondered quietly of what to do next. It was a few hours before she dared to stand again, feeling that her uneasy legs were too frail to support herself. A light Irish ballad from a distant fishing boat waltzed beautifully with the swirling wind. After giving the bottle one last look, she tossed it into the river.

____

The Brooklyn newsboys' lodging house stood on Pier One overlooking the East River. Everitt Street was its foreground and a small but winding stretch of canal-like docks was its background. Oil lanterns on brass posts lit the building's lawn to the night. The mighty Brooklyn crew spent the evening on the docks by taking swims and playing poker on empty fishing crates.

"Muhaha," Bua Theatre laughed crazily as he jumped into the river. Dandy O'Reily shrieked as Bua pulled her in along with him. A great wave of water splashed the edges of the dock. 

The girl of blond curls dunked Bua's head under water.

A small boy ran with a slight gimp over to the scene. "I'm coming in too!" he cried as he jumped into Dandy's arms.

The salty water splashed into her face. "Oh, Treavor!"

Treavor shakily doggy paddled over to the shore, clung to the rocks, and hoisted himself up. He kicked at the rocks and knocked a few into the water. A transparent green bottle clung to the murky soil. "Ooo.. a treasure map!" he exclaimed once seeing the paper in the bottle. The young boy rushed over to Dandy.

___

Spot Conlon stood at the paneled window over looking the street; he just couldn't sleep. Wrinkles gathered at his brow as he stared at the scene below. Spot sighed and turned to open the desk drawer beside him. Picking up the stack of papers, he began to read...

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With the flame close to his face, she could tell that he was not much older than she was. His hair was curly and dark brown. "The name's Jade, Jade Meyers."

"Kevin Thomas," he replied... Her eyes followed across the man's face.. strait blond hair complicated his one eye, but his strained dimples on each cheek were his most dominant features.

Her overpowering stomach destined her to join him... He held a welcoming smile with a cigar hanging loosely from the tips of his lips... The stranger smiled back and shook her hand. "And mine's Racetrack Higgins."

___

"Look at this," Trevor whispered to the young woman as he handed her the bottle.

Dandy cradled the glassware in her soft hands as Bua removed the cork stopper from the neck. She reached in with her thin, womanly fingers and removed the small roll of yellowed paper.

The edges of the paper cracked and split slightly as it was unrolled.

"Dear Spot," Dandy read aloud. Her eyes grew wide with shock and she slowly backed away. Her eyes darted to the left and right to make sure that no one was watching, then she continued reading...

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I am alive. I can not explain what happened that night on the docks. I only wish that you remember my words - Bragh beayn diomhair. Remember and be of trust. I am in the city.

Anne

Dandy threw the letter down as if the contents were poison, but Bua reached down quickly to pick it up. He studied it carefully.

"I'm going to go tell Spot about this," Treavor exclaimed and turned to leave.

Bua grabbed him and put a hand over his mouth. "No, no, you aren't going to tell anyone!" he barked.

Dandy took the boy by the shoulders and knelt down to his level. "Treavor, listen to me. This letter is very important to us and you must not tell anyone about it. You'd best leave the telling up to us."

"Do you understand?" Bua asked.

Treavor nodded. "Yeah, I won't tell."

Bua grinned. "That's a good lad." He ruffled the little boy's hair.

___

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Hair of dark silk swept up into a bun, eyes the size of marbles that were slightly upturned at the outer corners, and full lips with precise scarlet tendencies.... Race grinned. "That's Anne."

"What is it?" Spot snapped as he stuffed the sheets of paper back into the desk. 

Dandy and Bua walked into the small adjourning room reserved for their leader. Kid Blink Thomas and Sprite Anderson followed them inside. Blink turned to shut the door.

Spot's eyes searched them carefully. The cloudy orbs settled on the green bottle in Bua's hand.

"Treavor found this by the docks. It looks like it was washed up by the current," Bua said to Spot.

The emerald glass caught the light of the moonlight as Spot slowly pulled the paper into his hands. "You've read it already?" he asked as he delicately ran the paper between his fingers.

The four newsies nodded.

Spot carefully opened the scroll-like letter and began to read. There was a clang of broken glass as the bottle hit the wooden floor.


	5. Chapter 5 ~ Picnic

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Shout outs:

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Rae Kelly: he he.. yeah, I'm alive, but just barely (I might add). Thanks for the review..

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Bluehaq: Thanks.. he he

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Raven: That saying - ("a word of love, a sentence of hope, and a letter to the sea for new beginning.") - is one that I just made up. He he.. you gotta admit that it is kinda cool. After all, sayings have to come from somewhere. Why not be the one to start them? Thanks for the reviews and the happy birthday... ::smiles::

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Bam: A message in a bottle is *so* romantic. ::has a fluttery moment.. then sighs:: I know that the whole idea that she throws the bottle on one side of the river and it actually makes it to Spot is kind of doubtful, but it is possible... ha ha. I didn't really think about it much before I submitted it. The note is not very old - a few days at most. And *yes* Spot is leader of Brooklyn (he he!), but we still don't know what happened to the famed Red. Thanks for reviewing!

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Kora: Ha ha... Hey! thanks so much... he he. I actually knew what all of that meant. It's great to know that I am retaining some of the stuff that I am learning in French I this year. The cake is *very* good. My mom bought it at our local bakery... it's vanilla cake with white icing and pink roses. Thanks for the review...

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Olive: ::blushes:: I don't think so, but thanks anyways... Thanks for the review! 

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"You think its real?" Dandy questioned inventively.

Spot nodded. "Yeah, it's her handwriting."

"How old do you think it is?"

"A couple of days, a week at most," Blink nodded, "Look at the ink. If it was old then the ink would not of smeared as bad." He shook some of the river water off the paper.

"What are you going to do, Spot?" Sprite asked.

"There's not anything that I can do. I can't write back," Spot replied. He shook his head and took a seat on the bunk bed.

"But you can't just forget about it," Blink said.

"Yeah, I can. She left and I moved on with my life."

Kevin looked over at the two younger newsies, Bua and Dandy. He motioned for them to leave and they complied obediently. When the door closed behind them Sprite went over to sit beside Spot. She softly took his hand and spoke kindly unto him. "It wasn't her choice to go." She studied him earnestly. "You mustn't forget."

The young Brooklyn leader straitened up suddenly, his blue-grey eyes narrowed mystically. "Red refused to forget and look what happened."

"You're nothing like Red," Sprite whispered.

___

An entire week passed and Anne Montgomery continued living with the Austrian professor. As dues for her room and board she insisted that she help him in his studies. It was a great relief to Ms. Clearwater, for that was one less task that she had to fulfill.

It seemed to turn out as more of a nuisance than help. Mr. Bordeaux dwelled on every little mistake that Anne made and some days he just got fed up. This was one of those days.

"If you can't do it right, then just don't do it at all!" he shouted.

"Well, if you would give me proper instructions then there wouldn't be a problem," Anne retorted.

"I guess that I give you too much credit. I'll just be sure and speak simpler to you in the future!"

Anne groaned outwardly and took her hands out of the pit of soil that she had watered.

Colm grinned satisfied, then turned to continue making water samples. There was a sudden "plop" as a circle of mud hit the target - the base of his back. Anne's smile widened as he inspected the damages.

"You'll pay for that," Mr. Bordeaux exclaimed. He turned the water hose on full blast and chased after her. Anne jumped up onto the watering table and rushed to dodge the blasts.

___

"What in heaven's name is going on up here?" Ms. Clearwater cried as she came into the greenhouse.

"What's it look like, Elise?" Colm shrugged indifferently.

"Good heavens, she's soaked!" Elise said. She quickly took off her apron and tied it around Anne's shoulders.

Anne grinned and began brushing the clops of dirt from her dress.

"Hurry and go change clothes," the woman said, "You too, Colm. I've put together a picnic lunch for you two to take down to the piers."

Mr. Bordeaux turned to leave, but Elise caught his sleeve. "Remember, you're supposed to be the mature one."

___

"Why do we have to go to the river?" Mr. Bordeaux asked as he climbed into the carriage. Anne took a seat opposite of him.

"Because the roof is now flooded and, besides, you need to get out sometimes," she replied.

Colm sighed and stuck his head out the coach window. "Driver!" he commanded.

The sun shone brilliantly on that brisk autumn day. Anne went down to the docks to lay out a quilt, while Colm spoke to the driver of the carriage. "Come back in about an hour," he said.

Anne smiled as Mr. Bordeaux took a seat next to her on the ground. She cocked her head slightly and glanced behind him to the row of old warehouses. There was the glow of a light turned on in the second floor bunkroom of the old "Bridge" Lodging House.

"So, you've been to New York before?" Colm asked her.

"Oh, yes, I lived here for a short while," Anne replied with a smile.

"Here?"

"Yes, in the Seaport area," she said.

"Really? That's very surprising. We might happen to know the same people." He grinned lightly, intrigued at the possibilities.

Anne shook her head. "No, probably not. The people that I know are not really type to exist in your league." Her mind suddenly went to her old friends: Sprite, Kid Blink, Red, and Spot.

"Ah.. but I'm not really considered to be a part of that league that you speak of either. I just go along with the social events to hold on to the inch of family loyalty that still remains in my blood," Mr. Bordeaux replied.

"I know what you mean," Anne smiled. "It was very easy for me to swing in with the people that I did. Like when I met up with you, I had found myself alone in this big city against my will. But then, now that I think about it - I believe that I am glad that I did what I did. It seems that I just happened to meet up with good people on both occasions."

After the picnic lunch, the carriage came back to pick them up. Mr. Bordeaux hurried to clean up the lunch and Anne went over to one of the old run-down buildings. The light that had been on earlier was turned off. Anne leaned in to look through a crack between two nailed up boards on a window. The lobby was pitch black besides the light that flooded in the opened back door.

"Anne, what are you doing? The carriage is waiting on us," Colm said. He tugged on her sleeve before she could round the corner.

"Tell them to wait," Anne pleaded, "I want to show you something." She fought to continue down the sidewalk.

"Can't we do it another day. I have work to do."

Anne groaned. "You always have work to do. Just come on." She took his arm and waved to the carriage master.


	6. Chapter 6 ~ Retreat

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter.. I guess that it should have been added to the last uploaded chapter. He he.. I hope you like it anyways.

Shout outs:

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Rae Kelly: He he.. I wish that I hadn't had to make that a cliffhanger. I just thought that this next section would make it too long if added to it. Thanks for reviewing..

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Kora: The cake is very good. ::chomps on sugary icing:: No, you don't know why Anne left New York City yet.. he he.. Thanks for reviewing..

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Raven: He he.. I haven't told what happened to Red yet, but you can conclude that something did because Spot's the new leader of Brooklyn. ::smiles:: Thanks for reviewing..

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Vioshine: Thanks for the Happy Birthday and the review too! he he.. ::grins::

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She led him through the internal maze of alleyways leading to the entrance. He stumbled uncontrollably through obstacles along the path because of the blinding scarf that had been tied around his eyes.

"This has gone far enough," he yelled as he came fed up with unknowingly tripping over continual trash and debris.

Anne smiled. "Not much farther," she replied.

She guided him up the two steps, through the light blue door, then removed his blindfold. The small light fixture over head dimly lit the room, and through the small cracks between the boarded up windows a mere pinch of sunlight slipped in.

Mr. Bordeaux looked around at the remarkably tighty room. "Where are we?" he asked.

"You'll see. Come on," Anne replied and took his arm again.

___

It was a great surprise when two complete strangers barged into the second floor bunkroom. 

"What the -" Genre Ross gasped. Screams erupted as the girls scattered from the poker table. 

The middle-aged man shrunk back incredulously and pulled the woman with him. "Oh, I am very sorry!" he exclaimed.

Dandy mumbled into her pillow. She lifted her head and looked around. "What's going on here?"

"We're so very sorry. We'll just be leaving," Mr. Bordeaux smiled apologetically then opened the door. "Come on, Anne."

"No," she replied. Anne stepped further into the room and looked around. There was not a single recognizable face. Of course it was expected that new newsgirls come and go as time passes, but she just wished that she had received a happier welcome.

Dandy O'Reily got out of the bunk and flipped out her pocketknife. "I don't know how you two got up here, but I suggest you leave."

"Of course, of course. We are.. right Anne?" Colm asked sternly. He took her firmly by the arm.

"No," Anne repeated. She looked earnestly at the dozen or so faces, desperately hoping for some kind of positive response. She had an odd feeling that she had met the girl with blond hair and green eyes, whom bore the knife, but couldn't place a name to the face.

"We're leaving," Colm said. He took hold of Anne's other arm.

"_No,_" she said through gritted teeth. She fought to get out of his grasp.

"See? Goodbye.." Mr. Bordeaux added as he began to pull her by the waist out the doorway. 

She flailed her arms wildly and fought to hold on to the doorframe so she couldn't be pulled down the stairs. "No, _Colm_.."

The young women neared the door hesitantly to watch the retreating figures. 


	7. Chapter 7 ~ Character List

A/N: I thought this might help to keep you on track better. I'll be thinking up a chapter in addition as soon as possible.

Anne Montgomery:

-brown hair, round blue eyes

-age 16

-is from unknown place (lied that she lived in Philadelphia)

-lives with Mr. Colm Bordeaux, a college professor and biologist.

-was friends with the Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan newsies.

Mr. Colm Alexander Bordeaux:

-brown hair, blue eyes

-age 35

-from Austrian background; speaks with an accent

-professions - college biology teacher/biologist/botanist

-comes from a prominent family in which he has inherited most of his money from

-regrettably took in Anne Montgomery to stay with him until her family could be found.

Ms. Elise Clearwater:

- grey hair pulled back in a bun, and jasper eyes.

- age 65

- recently widowed

- grew up taking care of Colm

- serves as Colm's head housekeeper

Evelyn:

- brown hair, green eyes

- age 19

- clumsy

- housemaid for Colm

Spot Conlon:

- blond hair, blue-grey eyes

- age 16

- leader of the Brooklyn newsies

- has past connections with Anne

Sprite Anderson:

- blond hair, blue eyes

- age 15

- sister to Pre Anderson, a Brooklyn newsy.

- girlfriend of Kid Blink Thomas, a Lower Manhattan newsy.

- a Brooklyn newsgirl

- lives at the Bridge Lodging House

- a past friend of Anne's

Kid Blink Thomas:

- blond shaggy hair, blue eyes, and a black eye patch over his left eye.

- age 16

- boyfriend to Sprite

- a Lower Manhattan newsy

- a past friend of Anne's

Dandy O'Reily:

- blond hair, green eyes

- age 13

- a Brooklyn newsgirl

- lives at the Bridge Lodging House

Bua [Boo-a] Theatre:

- dark brown hair, brown eyes

- age 15

- a Brooklyn newsy

Treavor Adams:

- brown hair, hazel eyes

- age 9

- a Brooklyn newsy

Jade "Mush" Meyers:

- brown curly hair, brown eyes

- age 17

- a Spanish gypsy

- known for riding the rails

- shows up unexpectedly in Lower Manhattan

- infrequent Lower Manhattan newsy

- a past friend of Anne's

Racetrack Higgins:

- brown wavy hair, hazel eyes, olive skin

- age 17

- Italian

- a Lower Manhattan newsy

- a past friend of Anne's

Red Sutton:

-brown hair, blue-green eyes

- age 19

- past leader of the Brooklyn newsies

- strangely disappeared (no, I'm not going to tell you).

Characters not yet introduced, but from previous story:

Luna Morgan:

- black hair, commanding blue eyes

- age 17

- leader of the Brooklyn newsgirls

- lives at the Bridge lodging house

**__**

Karoline Froeb [Fr-oo-b]:

- red hair, green eyes

- 16

- German

- a Brooklyn newsgirl

- lives at the Bridge lodging house

Jack Kelly:

- brown hair, brown eyes

- age 18

- wears a red bandanna and a cowboy hat

- leader of the Lower Manhattan newsies

Heath O'Brien:

- blond shaggy hair

- age 17

- talks with a stutter

- Queens newsy

Love Wallace:

- black hair, blue eyes

- age 15

- Bridge newsgirl

Aches Claim:

- dark brown hair, brown eyes

- age 17

- strong build

- thick scowl

- ladies man

- Brooklyn newsy

Pre Anderson: 

- black hair, olive eyes

- age 19

- Sprite's brother

- strong build

- thick scowl

- Brooklyn newsy

Chap Stevens:

- black hair, green eyes

- age 19

- leader of the Bronx newsies

- long time Brooklyn enemy 


	8. Chapter 8 ~ A Walk

A/N: There may be some grammar and spelling mistakes in the following, but I was just trying to have a chapter for you soon.

At 5:30 that evening the girls returned to the "Bridge" to prepare for dinner and the evening edition.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry, girls. The sun doesn't wait for us," Luna Morgan called through the bustling washroom as she hastily pruned her own self. She sloppily tied her thick, raven-black hair into a ponytail with a piece of yellow twine and pinched her cheeks until they were rosy.

As they made their way out to the street through the alley, Luna received the daily updates. Sprite and Karoline Froeb recited them quickly from their heads. 

"Out of eighteen sellers there were 2,620 papers sold and $29.68 was our total income," Karo said.

"And Conlon's?" Luna asked.

"Twice that, as expected," was the reply.

"Good.." the darkie nodded.

Dandy O'Reily quickened her step to catch up with the leader. "Hey, Luna?" she asked.

"Yeah, Reily?" Luna replied.

Dandy lowered her head.

Luna put her hands on her hips impatiently. "What is it?"

"Uh.. we were seen today."

The leader stopped in her tracks. "By who?"

"By a man and a younger woman. I guess they noticed the light on."

"Their names?" Luna sighed.

"The man's was Colm, but I didn't catch the girl's."

Luna cursed bitterly. "Damn, we'd best not mention it to Conlon. He'd be at my neck if he found out." She scratched her head thoughtfully.

___

When Anne and Colm returned home, she went strait to her room and went to sleep. The floor to ceiling shutters had been fastened shut and life out of doors had slowed down to a minimum by the time she woke up again. Next to her bed a serving of dinner had been laid out on a tray. She picked at the luke-warm food, but decided against tasting it.

Anne slipped downstairs. Towards the back of the house she could hear the chatter of Ms. Clearwater and the rest of the maids and in the drawing room Mr. Bordeaux sat reading his paper. She coughed lightly through the cloud of sweet cigar smoke. Colm set his newspaper down to look at her. "Good evening," he said.

"Good evening," she replied, "I was wondering if it would be alright if I could take a walk.. You know - clear my thoughts. Do you mind?"

"Sure, go ahead," Colm nodded, "Did you find your dinner?"

"Yes, thank you," Anne smiled weakly.

Mr. Bordeaux stood up from the corner winged back chair. He sat his cigar down on the ashtray. "I suppose you'll be needing the carriage."

"No, no, please sit. That won't be necessary. I won't be going far."

Colm shrugged and went over to help her with her coat.

___

Anne looked down the street nervously to make sure that Mr. Bordeaux was not watching. She meekly waved down one of the taxis passing in the street.

A sleek black carriage with two reddish thoroughbreds pulled up along side her and she climbed in. "Where to, Miss?" the young gentleman in the driver's seat asked.

"The Brooklyn Bridge, please," Anne said.

He tipped his brown, felt cabby hat and smiled brightly.

When the carriage came to a stop, Anne climbed out of the open compartment door. The driver held out his hand and helped her down.

"Thank ya kindly, Ma'am," he smiled as she handed him payment.

You would of thought that Anne was stuck up and arrogant had you seen the way she stared like there was no tomorrow at the wonder of brick and steel. Her eyes focused then on nothing besides the sky itself. A breeze of heaven slowly guided her to the center of the bridge. Anne took off the heavy woolen coat to relish in the cool autumn breeze and the bright stars above. She stood there for a moment, simply doing what she had come to do - think.

The young woman finally came to a decision. Her eyes darted to each side to make sure that no other strollers on the elevated walkway were near enough. Sensing that the coast was clear, she quickly disheveled her clothes by pulling the sleeves of her white dress slightly off the shoulders and shifting the waist of her skirt so that it revealed her ankles [an unseemly gesture to do of the late 1800's]. She loosened the barrette that held up her brown silky hair so that small tendrils fell around her face and along her neck.

Down near the Brooklyn border, stood two Brooklyn lookouts by the second gothic arch. They each sat on opposite railings of the walkway, hidden in the shadows. With a strike of a match there was no longer a shadow; Anne took the man's arm tightly and pulled him out of the hiding place. 

Once the momental shock wore off a scowl formed on the Brooklynite's face and he advanced upon her. "What do you want?" he growled, his voice dripping with a thick Irish accent.

"Take me to Spot Conlon," Anne commanded, her own voice laced with a brogue that she had no idea existed.


	9. Chapter 9 ~ Anne Reprise

Shout outs:

Kora: What's a brain fart? ha ha.. never heard of that one. ::smiles:: Thanks for reviewing.. 

Vioshine: The newsy with the pocket knife is Dandy O'Reily... Thanks for the review!

Rae Kelly: That's a cool song that you sent me.. Thank for reviewing.. ::smiles::

___

"And your name is?" Anne asked the Brooklyn newsy.

He glanced at her, but kept walking. "D.C.," he muttered.

"How long have you been a newsy?" she questioned.

D.C. shook his head and ignored her.

They walked to a nearby cafe where the Brooklyn newsies spent most of their meals. Anne had a vague recollection of the small three-story building. Towards the front of its bottom level was a built in bakery and in the back was a small restaurant known as Ainsley's Deli. At the street corner where a towering ornamental lamp stood had been Anne's first selling spot in her past career as a newsy.

"He's in here," the scout muttered to her, and she slowly followed him inside. Nearly every booth was full throughout the quaint deli. D.C.'s eyes scanned the crowds as did Anne's, but there was not a trace of the infamous Brooklyn leader in question. She sighed as her hopes plummeted dramatically. He walked over to a corner booth that was filled with several young men and women.

"What's up, D.C.," one man asked.

"Some goil's lookin' for Conlon," D.C. replied.

"Well, tell her he ain't here," Bua said.

D.C. took the untouched half of the sub sitting on Luna's plate. "You tell her, Bua. I've gotta get back to the post," He turned bitterly and left.

Sprite and Karo looked up from their game of Go-Fish. "I win again!" the later of the two announced proudly.

"Yeah, cause you cheat," Sprite groaned as she shuffled the pile of scattered cards.

"You can't cheat in Go-Fish," Karo shrugged. She took the deck from her friend and dealt out each player a new hand.

"Well, you can cheat in anything if there's a mirror or something like it behind your opponent," Bua grinned. He pointed to the small window behind the booth.

Sprite threw her cards up in despair. "Karo!"

Heath O'Brien from Queens blissfully rested his chin in his hand. "I've n-never seen that g-girl around before." He stared at Anne with great interest.

Sprite lightly patted his cheek. "Give it a rest, Heath ole boy. You're going to give yourself a heart attack."

"Do you know her, Luna?" Bua asked, motioning to Anne.

Luna shrugged and shook her head.

Anne crossed her arms over her chest from the cool breeze entering the cracked window near her. The flowing white gown trickled like mercury around her legs.

Bua tapped Anne gently on the shoulder. "Spot Conlon's not here." He ran his hand through his dark brown hair.

"Do you know where I could find him?" she whispered.

"Why do ya need to see him?" he replied.

"I'm an old friend."

Bua eyed her with a smirk the size of Texas. "Spot's got many 'old friends,' but he's never been real good at keeping in touch, ya know - once he's done with 'em."

"It's not like that," Anne spat bitterly.

He waved his hand doubtfully, "Yeah, yeah, what ever, doll."

Luna got up from the booth and walked over to the door where Anne and Bua stood. "What's going on?" she asked.

Anne looked at the girl with raven-black hair and commanding blue eyes. "Luna?" she whispered.

"What? You know her?" Bua asked Anne.

"I-" she began, but Luna cut her off.

The newsgirl leader eyed Anne with grave speculation. "- knowing my name doesn't mean a thing. Many people that I have never met in my life, know my name."

"What's your name?" Bua asked.

"Anne," she whispered, her eyes closed; her lip shuttered as she fought against the forming tears.

Luna and Bua took a step back in unison. They stared at her with wild eyes and gaping mouths.

Anne took a breath and opened her baby blue eyes. _The tables are beginning to turn _- she thought.


End file.
